


Always By Your Side

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batman #71 Aftermath, Brotherhood, Brothers, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Gen, Good Older Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I NEVER READ FICS ABOUT BRUCE BEING A BAD DAD BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS ONE OKAY, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Red Hood and the Outlaws #25, Rated for Jason's mouth, THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE, Whumptober 2020, and i've decided that he was mentally manipulated or something, because i can't stand bruce being a bad dad or hurting his kids, i haven't read the full storyline so i can make it whatever i want, mind-control or something idk, okay but we all agree he wasn't himself at the time right??, that's what I'm going with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not theonlyreason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948297
Comments: 22
Kudos: 700





	Always By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> Whump Day 5 Alternate Prompt: "Comfort"
> 
> (I know I hate when people depict Bruce as a bad dad but listen,, there aren’t enough fics addressing what happened with Bruce punching Tim okay so I couldn’t resist writing this. Sorry Bruce but you gotta be a bad dad for one (1) fic ok I’ll make it up to you later I promise)
> 
> Title taken from "Satisfied" from Hamilton!

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids.   
  
“Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the  _ last  _ time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own.   
  
(The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.)   
  
But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right?   
  
Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home.  _ Definitely  _ not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots.   
  
“If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”   
  
Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?”   
  
The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.   
  
“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”   
  
“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the  _ only  _ reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.   
  
“Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.”   
  
“Again, _ not  _ why I’m here.”   
  
“Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon.    
  
“Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.”   
  
Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.”   
  
Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?”   
  
“Fine, why?”   
  
“Because you look like shit, that’s why.”   
  
“It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.”   
  
“How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.”   
  
Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.”   
  
“Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.”   
  
Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom.   
  
“You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?”   
  
Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?”   
  
“I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?”   
  
“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.”   
  
“My  _ ass  _ nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over  _ nothing.” _   
  
Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?”   
  
“Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are  _ not _ the same thing, and you know it.”   
  
“I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.”   
  
Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?”   
  
“Oh, give me a break—”   
  
_ “Hey.  _ The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he  _ was  _ in Tim’s place.   
  
“You weren’t  _ there,  _ Jay. You have no idea what happened.”   
  
“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?”   
  
“The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.”   
  
“Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.”   
  
“I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.”   
  
“Except you  _ did  _ nothing wrong.”   
  
“You have no  _ idea _ what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.”   
  
“Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to  _ help  _ him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.”   
  
Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.”   
  
“Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are  _ fucking true.” _   
  
“What do you  _ want  _ from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?”   
  
“I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You  _ know  _ that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.”   
  
“I’m not a child!”   
  
“Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your  _ father.  _ It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.”   
  
Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this  _ way  _ out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.”   
  
Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t  _ believe  _ you’re still trying to rationalize this.”   
  
“Because it’s a rational thing!”   
  
“Is it?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Would you ever hit  _ him?” _   
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”   
  
“No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever  _ intentionally _ hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?”   
  
Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.”   
  
“We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you  _ still  _ wouldn’t hurt him.”   
  
“So?”   
  
“So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you  _ anyway.  _ That’s not fucking okay.”   
  
“It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks  _ years _ too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s  _ Bruce.  _ He would never hurt us intentionally.”   
  
“He already did.”   
  
“And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.”   
  
“I won’t.”   
  
“Why  _ not? _ Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.”   
  
Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has  _ everything  _ to do with me.”    
  
Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce  _ do  _ to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?”   
  
Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows.    
  
“It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.”   
  
_ That  _ gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?”   
  
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?”    
  
Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.”   
  
Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.”   
  
Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?”   
  
“The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason  _ really  _ isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?”   
  
Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
